Why is she so damn stubborn?
And of course, because she's drunk off her ass, she stumbles on a crack in the street and barely catches herself on a lamp post.
She glances back at the sound of my truck door slamming shut. She glares at me as I march toward her. "I said, 'don't bother', Walker." She promptly stumbles again.
I roll my eyes. "Obviously, you've got it covered, right?"
"Yeah, I've got it covered." She ambles like a newborn foal onto the sidewalk. Technically, it's spring but it's frigging cold. The last bits of snow still linger on the sidewalk in dirty piles, concealing thin sheets of ice.
"I'm not gonna sit there and watch you give yourself a concussion just so you can prove to me how much of a big girl you are."
Penny's tall, sensual body angles toward me, her expression telling me that she's ready to argue. I don't have time for this. So, I snatch her off her feet and swoop her up, blushing bride-style.
She yips in surprise and reflexively flings her arms around my neck. "Seriously, asshole?!"
But she doesn't fight me. Fighting me is futile and thankfully, she already knows it. Her hip, squished against my abs. Her sexy long limbs, dangling across my body.
With my arm banded around the back of her thighs, I march up the walk to her shitty, crumbling apartment complex then through the lobby. Then, I'm lugging her up the stairs.
I should be focused on making it to her place before she pukes all over my shirt. But the whole time, I'm painfully hard, trying not to imagine dragging my fingers up under the hem of her dress.
When I'm standing outside her apartment door, I dig into my pocket and produce my friend's spare key on my fob. She had it duplicated in bright teal, of course. The damn thing is hard to miss. I nudge the door open and kick off my boots on the front mat.
The building may be shit but Penny's modest space is like a little dollhouse, full of pretty, girly things all stored neatly in their designated place. Down the short hallway, I kick open her bedroom door. Her sweet, feminine scent seems to be dripping from the walls of the shadowy room. The entire place is saturated with it.
I dump her onto her canopy bed and her body bounces on the plush mattress. Her dress slides back further to reveal even more of her creamy bare thighs. She's there, splayed and vulnerable. Dammit—I'm staring.
Our eyes hold. There's a plea in her unfocused, green irises. "Stay with me, Walker. Don't go. I could really use a friend tonight.”
Again, my eyes skim the hem of her too-short skirt. And I could use a fuck. I scrub my hands down my face, trying to wipe away the thought.
Tonight, I'm horny. Without a fucking doubt. I want a warm, curvy female body beneath me. Moaning my name. Arching against my touch. But the sexy redhead sprawled on the bed is definitely not the one.
Penny's not the kind of girl you waste.
She's not a one-night stand or a short-term fling or a casual bang. She's the kind of girl you keep. A lifetime kind of girl.
She's funny and she's witty and she challenges my bullshit. She's patient with me when I'm being my usual asshole self. She's not afraid of the beast in me that makes other people run in the opposite direction. Penny gets me. That's why I don't let my cock make the decisions. Not when it comes to her.
That's why we can't ever be more than friends.
She reaches for my hand. Our fingers tangle. “Walker, can you stay?”
I glance at her sexy mouth. I'm painfully, ridiculously, stupidly hard. When I inhale, I discover her whiskey-vanilla scent all over again. I want to taste it right off her tongue.
I shake my head. “Not tonight…” Her hand drops, letting go of mine. I miss her warmth already.
Penny rises up onto her elbows, looking utterly confused as I take a step backward toward the door. “Why? Do you have plans?”
Yeah. Plans with my goddamned fist alone in my shower. “Dammit, Penn. I can’t trust myself to…”
Penny blinks. She is the epitome of drunk innocence right now. “What? You can’t trust yourself to what?”
Another step backward. “I’m sorry. I can’t…”
Every time she licks that bottom lip, I want to bite it. Every time she shifts her legs, I want to slide my hand under that skirt. I have so many unsolicited visions running rampant right now, I can’t keep up. I can’t trust myself around her.
She watches miserably as I stumble awkwardly out of the room. She’s hurt. Again. I have a way of doing that to her, without even meaning to. Sometimes hurting her is the only way I can protect her from myself.
"Good night, P," I say from the safety of the doorway.
She flops back onto the bed. "Yeah...Good night." As I'm turning toward the door, I hear her call out to me. "Hey, Big Man..."
I glance at her over my shoulder.
In the dim room, I can barely make out her little grin but the smirk is clear in her voice. "Shirt looks good on you, by the way."
I can't help my own grin. "Thanks, asshole."
Seconds later, I take a breath as I burst out of the building onto the sidewalk. Frustrated and horny, I try to put my gorgeous friend out of my mind as I drive myself back to my farm.
4
Penny
I've got dark sunglasses over my eyes and an extra-large vanilla oat milk latte clutched to my chest as I stumble into Iris’s flower shop. I pull the bill of my baseball cap lower to shield my eyes from the offensively colorful peonies and marigolds and tiger lilies positioned throughout the place.
My head is pounding, an obnoxious reminder of my decision to chug cheap Manhattans last night. I just want to slide on my sleeping mask and crawl back under my covers for the next three days.
Hangovers are a bitch. And the lingering humiliation of my interaction with Walker last night really isn't helping. But since all my friends turn to watch me enter, I attempt to look like a functioning member
